Page 64 of Strike It Witch

“Just short of enough.” I gave him a wry smile and drained the cold bottle of water he’d handed me when we’d walked in.

Ronan tossed my empty into a bin beside his desk markedRECYCLEthen sat back in his chair, fingers steepled over his mouth. He looked at me like a shark eying a school of fish.

“What was Alpha doing in the blackmail photo?”

“Why were you demoted?” I countered. “If Mason Hartman challenged you to a dominance battle, the entire paranormal community would’ve been talking about it, so I know that wasn’t how it went down.”

“No challenge was necessary. The alpha needs his second to be a bodyguard, too. I don’t have time, nor do I want to make time, for that.” This he said stiffly, through clenched teeth. “Tell me about the photo.”

“Why don’t you just challenge Floyd for the pack? You’re twice the wolf he is.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Stop hiding your power, Ronan. You’d be an incredible pack leader.”

“You don’t know me.” He dropped his hands to the desk and turned his gaze to the wall to my right. I’d expected annoyance in his expression, but what I got looked more like … pain. “Not like that. I am not the sort of wolf who should lead anyone.”

“I disagree, but you obviously don’t want to talk about it, so I’ll leave it alone.”

“Thank you.” He brought his gaze back to me. “Now tell me about the godsdamned photo.”

“I would, but?—”

“Damn it, Betty.” He dropped his head back, slid his hand over his eyes.

“No, truly. I would. But he’s your alpha leader, Ronan. Since he’s—as you said—more powerful than you are, he can command you to tell him that I showed you the photo. If that happens, I lose my leverage.”

Ronan glared at me.

It was a trap, and he knew it.

He had two choices. Reassure me that his father wasn’t strong enough to compel him to do anything, which would make him admit that he knew he was more alpha than his father—or continue to keep his “secret.” He couldn’t do both.

“Eventually,” he said, staring at me with an intensity I found hard to match, “you’ll tell me everything.”

“Eventually,” I replied, “you’ll let me in on your plan for the pack.”

He sat up, gave me a disarming smile. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

It didn’t work. I was still armed. “So it’s like that, Pallás?”

“It’s like that, Lennox,” he said.

He didn’t trust me with the truth. It stung, though I understood. If I’d completely trusted him, I’d have shown him the photo of his father in a compromising position with the alpha leader of the Yuma wolf pack without any stipulations.

Floyd getting it on with the Yuma alpha wasn’t a big deal to me, but the alpha had cultivated a hatred for the southern Arizona pack in his wolves to prevent them from leaving him and joining the larger, more powerful pack. That photo contained the sort of information that could destabilize his pack’s power structure and seal Floyd’s fate for good.

And it was one of the less incriminating pictures I had.

When the photos came into my possession, Ida had asked me why I didn’t just throw the photos at the pack and let the chips fall where they may. My answer back then was that Floyd’s next in line had been an even more abusive wolf with power similar to what I’d witnessed in Mason Hartman.

A blackmailed Floyd Pallás was a far better option than a fearless Mason Hartman. At least with the alpha, I had some power, limited though it might be.

But if Ronan was willing to take over … that changed things.

Too bad he wasn’t.

“Why did you come for me today?” I asked.

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